Hugging Day
by BoothGirlForever
Summary: Some holidays are more important than others. No exact point in the post-baby BB timeline, except that Christine is about 6-7 years old in this story.


**Okay, I'm back with another tiny one-shot. I can't seem to do anything else any more. But this one practically wrote itself the other night, when sleep eluded me. I usually don't write anything with Christine, because I still feel like she is a plot device that was forced on us. But she was really a central point in this story. I hope you like it.**

**HUGGING DAY**

Beautiful bright blue eyes slowly opened, pushing the dreams of nighttime away. It was Saturday; the best day of the week. With all the energy and awkward grace of youth, Christine sprang from her small bed. A moment's search turned up her favorite fuzzy slippers, and with her bear, Ursula, tucked securely under her arm, she wandered down the hall toward her parent's bedroom.

But the room was empty. Those same bright blue eyes spotted her mother's neatly folded jeans and shirt, and the unmade bed. Without hesitation she turned and trotted out of the room, knowing exactly where to look next.

Her soft rubber soles made no noise on the stairs as she carefully made her way down – she always had to hold onto the railing – and she peeked around the doorway into the living room. Yes, they were there. She knew they would be there. Mommy was wearing one of Daddy's FBI t-shirts, and Daddy was wearing his favorite Flyers t-shirt. She wondered what Daddy would look like if he wore one of Mommy's t-shirts. The thought made her giggle softly. Creeping closer, she studied them. They were both asleep, wrapped in a blanket and hugging each other. They did it a lot. She thought about crawling under the blanket with them. That was one of her favorite things to do when they were down here. But...she glanced toward the kitchen, then back again. With an expression very much like her mother often had, she studied both of them, noting the shadows under her daddy's eyes. Little fingers reached out and tugged on her mother's hand. Nothing. She tugged again and whispered. "Mommy."

A hint of movement, and Brennan's eyes opened. "Christine." She yawned, then glanced at Booth and spoke more softly. "Good morning." Smiling, she held up the blanket. "Do you want to lie down with us?"

"No, thank you, Mommy." Another quick look at Daddy, and she whispered again. "I'm hungry. Will you make me breakfast?"

"Of course I will." She looked more closely at Booth. He was still sleeping deeply, and she risked moving, easing herself slowly off of him and standing. Picking Christine up and settling her on her hip, she kissed her rosy cheek and started toward the kitchen. "What would you like to eat?"

A little lip was tucked between tiny teeth for a moment as she thought furiously. "Pancakes."

Brennan's brow lifted and she stood silently at the kitchen island, waiting.

It only took a moment for Christine to notice her expression and she spoke again. "I would like some fruit for my healthy food, please."

Chuckling softly, Brennan hugged her daughter tightly and set her on a kitchen stool. Careful to make as little noise as possible, she began pulling food and utensils in preparation for the meal. "I think those are good choices. But we have to be quiet, because Daddy is still sleeping." She began slicing strawberries and mixing batter.

"Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"Why is Daddy so tired?"

The knife faltered and stopped. Brennan turned and looked across the room, her heart in her eyes as she stared at Booth. With a sigh, she set aside the knife. "Sometimes Daddy's job is hard, Christine. When it's hard, it makes Daddy tired."

"I don't want Daddy to be tired. You're not tired. Can he do your job?"

Her lips curved gently. "No, sweetheart. Daddy loves his job very much. It's an extremely important job, and he helps a lot of people. So, even though it sometimes makes him tired, he really wants to do it anyway." Her head turned again at a whisper of sound from the living room. Without her next to him, Booth was beginning to stir. Skirting around the counter to her daughter, she dropped her hand onto the chestnut curls and leaned over. "I have an idea. Do you remember when Daddy told you about Hugging Day?"

Christine nodded energetically, beaming at the thought. "Yes! Daddy said that Hugging Day is when daddies hug their daughters extra lots." Her smiled brightened. "I like Hugging Day."

"Well, I think today is going to be a Hugging Day." She gave Christine's head another stroke. "Daddy is going to wake up soon. I think maybe you should start Hugging Day right away. Why don't you go lie down with Daddy, and I'll call you when your breakfast is ready?"

"Yeah! I wanna do that." Determined, Christine set Ursula on the counter and hopped off the stool, making her way back into the living room. After a moment of consideration, she carefully picked her way onto Booth's sleeping form.

Brennan straightened, observing as Booth began to stir and mumble, then blinked his way awake. She thought of the family from their last case; of a father who would never again be able to hug his little daughter, and looked for yet another moment, swallowing with emotion at the soft conversation taking place. It was mostly inaudible, but then Christine's reedy voice became a bit louder in the morning stillness.

"Happy Hugging Day, Daddy."

Booth's arms banded around her, and he tucked her head under his chin as his eyes closed tightly. "Happy Hugging Day to you, too, baby."

Brushing a stray tear away, Brennan returned to the cutting board and continued to cut fruit, listening as the unintelligible whispering washed over her like peace.

**Thanks so much for taking the time to read. I hope you enjoyed it.**


End file.
